


The Newest Brother

by PrincessMariana



Series: PM's Flufftober 2020 [12]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Age Changes, As One Does, Damian is the oldest, Flufftober, Flufftober 2020, Gen, He Got Better, Tim died, and leads the league of assassins, dick was talon, he also got better, jason is off being a teenager crime lord, not editted we die like robin, reverse batfam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27146528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessMariana/pseuds/PrincessMariana
Summary: Damian only hears whispers of Gotham, while he leads the League of Assassins. When his younger brother, Tim, shows up, Damian learns of his father's death and meets his new 'brother', Dick.Or,Reverse Robins, where Damian is the oldest and parents Dick while Bruce is 'dead'.Written for Flufftober 202, Day 13: Whispers
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne
Series: PM's Flufftober 2020 [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951447
Comments: 10
Kudos: 338
Collections: Flufftober2020





	The Newest Brother

**Author's Note:**

> This is more a plot/world idea than fluff. But it's kinda fluffy to read. Damian's such a softy, and Dick is adorable. :D

Damian heard whispers of the Batman, of his father. But only whispers. He purposefully did not seek out information of his family – his _former_ family. And news of Gotham rarely traveled through the League of Assassins.

Still, every time he heard whispers of Batman’s death, his fists clenched, and he had to meditate to release the fear. A few days would pass, and the whispers always spoke of Batman’s miraculous – or unfortunate, depending on the speaker – return.

After one such cycle – whispers of death, an hour in meditation, whispers of life – Damian received an unexpected and unwanted visitor.

Damian was woken from his sleep by sounds of fighting. He grabbed his sword and rushed to the courtyard. His assassins surrounded a man dressed in familiar red, yellow, and black. Already, three of Damian’s people were unconscious at the man’s feet.

“Stand down,” Damian said, and the fighting paused.

Damian strode through the guards to stand a few feet away from the intruder. “Drake,” he said coolly.

“Damian,” Tim said in a similar tone.

“Why are you here?” Damian said.

“Bruce is dead,” Tim said bluntly. “I need a favor.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed. He would process the news of his father’s death later, when Tim was gone. He gestured at his assassins. “Leave us.” When they faded into the shadows, he bitterly asked, “What could you possible want from me?”

Tim mimicked a bird call. From a nearby tree, a young boy dropped down and darted to Tim’s side, clinging to Tim’s cape. “It’s more a favor for Bruce than for me,” Tim said. “Meet our newest brother.”

Damian stared at the boy. The boy stared back, blue eyes wide and sorrowful.

“He’s usually more cheerful,” Tim said, resting a hand on the boy’s head. “Losing Bruce has been hard for him.”

Given the dark circles under Tim’s eyes – even darker than Damian remembered – the child was not the only one dealing poorly with the death of Damian’s father.

Damian didn’t want to ask, because he didn’t want to know. He only heard whispers of Gotham for a reason. Still, the words escaped him. “When did my father take him in?”

“Less than a year ago,” Tim said. “He’s still in Robin training, but that’s more because of Bruce’s paranoia than anything.”

Damian didn’t want to know more about this child. The boy was just another replacement for Damian’s tarnished legacy. “What favor do you need?”

“I need you to look after Dick,” Tim said.

“This is the League of Assassins,” Damian snapped. “Not a daycare.”

Tim smiled at some humorless joke. “He’ll fit in better than you think. There’s nowhere else for him to go.”

“Pennyworth?”

“Dick needs to be protected,” Tim said. “The Court of Owls wants him back.”

The child – Dick, apparently – cringed at those words and clung tighter to Tim’s cape. Damian wondered how Dick had earned the undesirable attention of the Court of Owls. “You can’t protect him?”

“I’m investigating Bruce’s death, while playing Batman,” Tim said. “I have my hands full.”

“He’s dead. What is there to investigate?” Damian said.

“He…might not be dead,” Tim said. “I don’t really know, but the facts are pointing to something strange. I owe it to Bruce to dig deeper.”

“Acceptance was never your strong suit,” Damian said. “What about Jason?”

Tim made a face. “You want me to leave an ten-year-old with a crime lord? Really?”

“He can make toast,” Dick piped up in a quiet but determined voice, turning those wide, sad eyes towards Tim.

Tim looked down at the boy. “Making toast does not make him a suitable guardian. He’s sixteen and shoots people for fun.”

“Not for fun,” Dick said stubbornly, his voice still soft. “For justice.”

“And that’s why you need less exposure to crime lords,” Tim said.

Dick scowled but didn’t make any further arguments.

“Here’s everything you need to know about Dick’s situation,” Tim said, tossing Damian a flash drive.

Damian caught it. “I haven’t agreed to this.”

“It’s just for a few months until my investigation is complete,” Tim said. He sighed. “Please, Damian. If not for my sake, for Bruce’s.”

Damian looked at the child, the latest stray that his father had taken in. His father’s softness had allowed their family to be overrun by those not of their blood. Unfortunately, Damian had inherited some of his father’s softness. “Just a few months.”

“Thank you.”

Damian hated the sincerity in Tim’s voice. He hated that he had to _convinced_ to keep his family safe – a family that had changed without him.

Tim placed his hands on Dick’s shoulder, kneeling to look Dick in the eye. “It’s like we discussed. You’ll be staying with Damian for a little while. He’ll keep you safe. Listen to him, okay?”

Damian was oddly reminded of when his mother had left him with his father. Tim was treating Dick with more gentleness than Talia had ever possessed, but the moment had the same finality to it. Damian wondered if Dick was feeling abandoned and angry, like Damian had. Bruce would laugh at him from beyond the grave if Dick was as bratty as Damian had been.

Dick remained expressionless as he quietly nodded. Tim rose and glanced over his shoulder at Damian. “Take care of him.”

With that, Tim left with a swish of his cape. Bruce’s dramatics had obviously rubbed off on him.

“Come along, child,” Damian said, turning back to the palace.

When he heard the faintest ruffle of cloth and not the scampering feet he’d expected, he turned back. Dick had vanished.

Damian muttered a curse. Tim had barely been gone a minute, and Damian had already lost the boy. He could already hear his father’s laughter. At least as a child Damian had waited a few hours before making his own escape.

“Fidda!” he called.

She appeared at his side, hand on the hilt of her dagger. “Yes, demon head?”

“Find the boy, but don’t hurt him,” he said.

She bowed her head and vanished. Damian trusted in her abilities but did his own sweep of the courtyard just to be thorough. Dick wouldn’t get far. The palace was isolated. They were miles from the nearest city.

A few minutes later, he heard the quiet pitter-patter of feet, and suddenly Dick was running towards Damian, Fidda right behind him. Dick darted behind Damian and clung to his cloak, as if using Damian as a shield to hide from Fidda. Damian wondered how this child – especially one trained by a very paranoid man – could so easily trust Damian, a stranger.

“Thank you, Fidda,” Damian said.

She nodded at the dismissal and stepped back into the shadows. From behind Damian, Dick relaxed and released Damian’s cloak. Damian faced him.

He was unsure what to say. When Damian had run off, Bruce would deliver a long lecture that only irritated Damian instead of dissuading the action. Alfred would tut and shake his head in disappointment, but Damian didn’t think he could mimic Alfred in basically any way. Talia punished any disobedience, but Damian didn’t want to impose his own childhood on his newfound brother.

Damian settled with asking, “Why did you leave?”

Dick shrugged. “I wanted to check the exits.”

“Why? Do you plan to leave soon?”

“Nah. Just good to know, in case the Talons come,” Dick said.

“Was my father – was Bruce able to protect you from the Court of Owls?” Damian said.

“Yeah, but he’s dead,” Dick said.

“Do you know where Bruce was trained?” Damian said. “He was trained here, with the League of Assassins. My people have received similar training to him from the same teachers. I have been trained both by the League and by Bruce. Believe me, if the Talons do come, they won’t touch you. You don’t need an escape plan. Now, come along.”

This time, Dick obeyed.

+++

Damian was woken in the middle of the night by something moving in his room. He had a knife drawn before fully waking up.

“Sorry!” Dick squeaked.

Dick was wrapped in a blanket, standing near the foot of Damian’s bed. Damian sighed and put away his blade. “What are you doing here?”

Dick chewed on his lower lip and held the blanket tighter around him.

“Speak, child,” Damian said, a bit gruffly.

“I got scared,” Dick said. “Bad dream.”

Jason had suffered from nightmares as well, though he’d never been as honest about it. He would usually go to Bruce at night, after bade ones, but when Bruce was away, he had gone to Damian’s room.

Damian made room and patted next to him. Dick immediately crawled onto the bed and curled up against Damian. The physical contact was _not_ something Jason had done. Damian wasn’t sure how to react.

“You shouldn’t be so trusting,” he said and then winced.

As foolish as Dick’s trust was, Damian shouldn’t discourage Dick from trusting him.

“You’re family,” Dick said. “I can always trust family.”

Damian wanted to protest. They weren’t _really_ family, he wanted to say. Bruce had taken Dick in without Damian’s approval or knowledge. But as Dick’s eyes fluttered closed, Damian didn’t have the heart to argue. They could discuss their relationship in the morning, when Damian could look into those wide blue eyes, and _insist_ they weren’t family.

Damian might have inherited his father’s lack of self-awareness, but, as he drifted to sleep, he acknowledged that that wouldn’t happen in the morning, or ever. Like with Jason – and, eventually, with Tim – he knew that he already accepted Dick as another little brother.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it. Let me know what you think in the comments! :)


End file.
